NOW- Rhian

                                    

                                          
It felt so good to reconnect with Oliwia; it really did feel like ages. After exams and my  trip to Spain with Tomas, I'd missed her. A part of me felt a little guilty for getting so caught up, for spending all this time with him.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!" she squealed, pulling me into a tight hug.
I laughed, feeling a little sheepish. "I know, I know. Everything's been so... intense lately. Also, I..." I leaned in close, dropping my voice to a whisper. "I had sex."
Her eyes went wide, and she slapped my arm, grinning. "Oh my god, no way! Tell me everything! Also, heads up, I borrowed your blue Victoria's Secret set for a date while you were gone. Hope you don't mind."
We burst out laughing. Oliwia and I were inseparable—we'd shared everything over the years: clothes, secrets, awful breakups, a few questionable tattoos, and way too many hungover mornings. She was my sister in every way that mattered.
"Okay, where do I start?" I blushed as I told her about Tomas, about his impulsive decision to take me to Spain. How, even crazier, his mother had turned out to be one of my biggest supporters back when I was performing. I told her about our first time together, how different and intense it was. But I left out the parts about how Tomas had bought me a whole new wardrobe, and how I was practically living with him now. Saying that stuff out loud made it feel even more real, and maybe even a little fast.
The waiter came by, took our orders, and Oliwia launched into her own story about a guy she'd met recently, Blaze. One of the best things about her was how I could just sit back, listening and enjoying her wild stories. As she talked, I felt my phone buzz in my bag. Tomas.
Having fun?
Loads, I typed back, smiling.
I miss you... come over after. I'll send a car.
I hesitated, glancing at Oliwia, who was describing Blaze's terrible dance moves. I looked back at my phone. I was there yesterday. And the day before. I think I need a night in the dorms, you know?
What, they keep a register there now? he teased immediately.
Haha, no, I replied. It just... feels like a lot. Maybe a night apart wouldn't hurt?
There was a long pause, and then his message came through. I don't want a night apart, Rhian. In fact... you should move in with me.
I froze, staring down at the message. Move in with him? Already? I looked back up at Oliwia, still chattering away. If she knew he'd asked me to move in, she'd probably throw a fit. The thing was, I hadn't even told Tomas about the internship yet. I'd be leaving in three weeks, and I had no idea how he'd take it.
I can't, Tomas, I typed slowly. I have that internship coming up in a few weeks.
Silence.
Since that first night, it felt like we'd been in this all-consuming bubble—music, late nights, quiet mornings, sex, eating, laughing, sometimes arguing, then more sex. It was like every time we were together, the world faded away. We hadn't talked about me turning down the job he'd suggested. We hadn't even talked about the fact that he seemed to think I was just as free as he was to go anywhere, anytime.
I tucked my phone back into my bag, pushing down the knot of worry in my stomach, and tried to focus on Oliwia's story. The bubble was bound to burst sometime, and maybe sooner than either of us expected.After far too many glasses of cheap wine and a final, regret-worthy tequila shot, Tomas's driver came to pick us up. He dropped Oliwia at her parents' place—a house just on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by manicured gardens and hidden behind a tall gate. She was home for the summer, but we never talked about money or the fact that both of us working through school was a choice, not a necessity. Oliwia's grandfather on her dad's side had invested in oil before the second world war, and let's just say her family could live comfortably without lifting a finger for the next hundred years. But we had an unspoken understanding, never prying too deeply. She never asked why I quit playing piano, and I never asked why she was back in the dorms instead of here.
I sent Tomas a quick text on the way home. See you soon was my message. His response was immediate, a simple See you soon, x—but something in me felt tense. We'd said "I love you" already, though with Tomas, it sounded less like something romantic and more like a relentless devotion. Like an obsession. And yet, I knew he meant it.
The elevator doors opened into his apartment, and the music floated through the hallway, spilling from the main room. Tomas was at the piano, playing something low and haunting. He'd never played in front of me before, but he wasn't half bad.
"Hey," I said, walking over to him, kissing him lightly on the lips. This time, he didn't try to deepen it like he usually did. Instead, he just held me close and continued to play. The melody was familiar, but distorted, twisted almost. I sat beside him and listened as he played *Adagio for Strings* by Samuel Barber.
"You know that's a sad song, right?" I asked."Of course," he said, his fingers drifting over the keys. "I learned it on the guitar first."I smiled. "It was originally for strings, you know."He continued playing, but his tone shifted. "Because you're leaving, aren't you?"I laughed softly, brushing it off. "It's just four weeks, Tomas. It's an internship, not some permanent goodbye."He stopped playing abruptly, and I noticed a glass of whiskey resting on the piano—an almost silent expression of the way he was feeling. "Four weeks without you, Rhian." "It's just Berlin," I said. "I'm not going to the ends of the earth."He stared at the keys, the weight of his silence thick between us, before speaking again. "Why not work for me, then?"I sighed, feeling this was coming. "Tomas, you know I can't work for you. We're together; I need my own career, something separate.""Have you even found a place to stay yet?" His question was tight, precise, the way it always was when he felt this kind of tension."I'll stay with a friend from school, Tidgh. He lives in Berlin now and has room." His posture shifted, and the intensity of his eyes locked onto me. "No," he said, voice low and firm, nearly a growl. "You won't be living with another man, Rhian."I took a breath, steadying myself. This side of Tomas, the controlling streak that I sometimes saw, it was never far from the surface. He wanted me to himself—not just in the possessive way lovers do, but in everything. Even with his mother, his jealousy was there, always evident."Tomas," I started, my voice soft, trying to bridge the divide. "Listen, I'll stay with Tidgh for four weeks, and when I finish, I'll come back here. To you."In response, he pulled me close, guiding me until I was straddling him on the piano stool, his hands tightening around my waist. "Okay," he said, the word hanging heavily between us, as if he accepted it but with something unspoken behind it. I could tell we weren't finished with this conversation.The next morning, he was gone. I woke to a text: *The housekeeper will be by later.* And then I went to work, feeling his absence echo in the quiet.